Disowning scoreboard

Obviously, I was the first of my siblings to be disowned. I was not the last, and it wasn't even the last time I was disowned.

Because it was hard to feel welcome when my father was not speaking to me, I tried to stay in Eugene after my first couple of terms at college. Everything went wrong, from not making enough at my job to a roommate stealing food and not paying utilities to the IRS telling me that I did my taxes wrong and they were now charging me interest on what I owed.

My nearby cousins were going up to visit for the day, and I rode along, intending to lay low. However, after two and a half years, my father said he would like to start over. 

There was no apology, but I took it, and it was a huge relief. I felt such love for him then. The other time when it was that clear was when he left my mother. Suddenly people who had always said they liked our father were saying that he was an odd duck. It's not that both weren't true, but I had a clear picture of how much he was cutting himself off from everything, and even though he was still alive, I grieved for him.

That also directly led to all of the other disownings, but it took awhile. 

Because I believed that any additional tension would lead to an irreparable rupture, I had always tried to be extra considerate. Mainly this meant that if I saw an article that I thought would interest him, I sent it along.

It was remarkably stressful. I remember that even when he would send replies to that, and it was almost certain that the message from him was simply a thank you, I would see that I had mail from him and a knot would form in my stomach as I would think "What now?"

Getting along with him was difficult. I remember the last time he drove me to Eugene; he would say something and I would say something building on it, agreeable, and he would still contradict it.

There was great strain when he was not speaking to me, but there was also some relief.

He left in October 1995, my senior year in college. It was my first time attending fall term, and Mom called crying right before I was going to leave for the homecoming game. I still went, but those next few weeks were hard. Staying in school was hard.

We were all struggling, but getting along. There were some visits, especially with my younger sisters as they completed their driving lessons. Three or four years later he moved to The Dalles. We were thinking we should try and visit him, but that was far and he was living with someone whom he hadn't really admitted existed (though we knew).

While we were waffling on that, he sent a message to everyone else angry at them for not visiting and casting them off.  I was not included, because I was the only one who had made an effort. I believe he alluded to my difficulty getting out there (Tri-Met does not service The Dalles). I don't remember how plainly stated that was, but I will give him this credit: he never criticized me for not driving after that.

Our brother wrote back telling him off, and never dealt with him again. Therefore, he is the one who has been disowned the least, with only one occurrence.

Scores: 1 disownment each for five children.

I helped forge a reconciliation with my sisters, pointing out some of the difficulty and arranging a time to visit. As sisters we went, and it could have been worse. We were lucky that one of us fell getting out of the car (it was icy), and that helped break the tension. She wasn't happy about it, but she was a hero.

I think it took six months for the next angry missive to come, because one visit en masse hardly demonstrated filial piety. I brokered reconciliation again, and we eventually worked out more of a regular relationship, always tense, often with sudden demands, but apparently at least good enough. 

Scores: 1 disownment each for my brother and I, 2 for each of my sisters.

That got us through to about the ten year mark of him leaving. 

He had preemptively left one job that might have laid him off (but probably would have given him at least another two years) to try various bad ideas. While usually holding some kind of job, he was running through his pension for supplemental income. He was still married to my mother, and collecting social security as a couple but also still making the house payment, giving her and us a home.

Because they were still legally a couple, he needed her signature to remove the last amount from the pension. He did not say that, and he didn't send the whole document that needed signing, but it was pretty clear. And fine, it was his pension, except that when he was done with that he was surely going to target the house next. That was scary. 

We consulted a lawyer, who recommended being straightforward and asking if he wanted the house. We could try and sort all that out amicably. 

BOOM!

Now I was disowned with my sisters. In many ways the messaging was the same -- packages and letters will be returned unread -- but the part about us only caring about his money and what we could get from him was new. Also, I was no longer a neutral party who could broker a peace.

I cared about him, but protecting Mom was more important. If he was going to be volatile, even attempting to contact him was risky.

The initial visit with the lawyer was on Valentine's Day, but it was actually March when we filed, and things took a while. I think the main reason he signed over the house to Mom was to avoid spending more time (and disclosing more) on discovery, but that worked for us.

I had told myself that after that was secure, I would reach out to him, but it would have to be for a better relationship, where I wasn't always having to avoid setting him off. 

That probably wouldn't have been possible anyway, but when everything was signed and completed, I found that I was too tired to reach out to him. I just didn't have it in me.

Score: 1 disownment for my brother, 2 for me, 3 for my sisters.

(Though if we are making it a contest, my first one should count for extra.)

My older sister may still come up with a fourth, because she is in touch with him. He was working in China when there was an earthquake, and she reached out. 

I could have. I got an announcement for his 50th high school reunion, and I scanned it in and e-mailed it to him, because I thought he should have it. He did write saying he already had gotten it through another source, but I did get a wedding announcement from him when he remarried.

Well, "wedding announcement" is an overstatement. It was an e-mail with a date and an attached photo of them holding the marriage license. 

I believe if I had written back, we could be in touch too. I didn't. That wasn't even to avoid the tension;  the real problem was that I could not think of anything good to say. "I hope you treat this one better than you treated the last one!" is not exactly "Congratulations!" And I knew he wouldn't, and he didn't. He is now twice-divorced.

That's without counting all of the divorces from his kids.

But I did still ultimately make a choice -- even if I let my exhaustion make the choice -- that I was done.

That was a step, though of course it was more complicated than that.